Odd Bedroom Arguments
by silentskulls
Summary: Azkadellia is woken from a nightmare by a certain hardened Tin Man. They begin firing arguments back and forth to each other, but how far under each others skin can they get before one of them cracks?


**A/N: Before anybody reads, the pairing is CainKadellia (though you probably could've guessed that), so if that's not your cup of tea, then don't complain to me!**

"Az… lia…" She couldn't particularly hear much. It sounded like she was surfacing from water and then bobbing back under, catching little bits of what was going on around her. "Azkad… lia!" It was getting louder and more comprehensible now. She felt something hurting her arms, a tight, suffocating sensation around her shoulders. It felt as though she was being pushed back and forth in slow motion and she couldn't understand it. "Azkadellia!" Her name was being called. "Azkadellia! Wake up!" Her eyes snapped open and her head was pounding. The shaking and pushing had ceased but the pain was still surging into her arms; somebody had a firm grip on her and apparently was not letting go. "Hey," came a gentle male voice, and she tried to focus on who was speaking, "you're awake." She held her head and blinked several times, her vision finally clearing as she made out who was holding her arms with such tension.

"Wyatt?" she asked. She had never been one to address people by last names. It just stuck when she was in informal situations, such as now, but the grimace that came from the man's face indicated that she should watch how she addressed him. "What happened?" He helped her to sit up, not ever even sneaking a glance anywhere below her face. Either he had nerves of steel or she simply didn't tempt him. Maybe he had seen enough breasts in his life to not be lured to look at any more. "Was I dreaming?"

"Well, whatever you were doing, it wasn't pleasant to you," he said, letting go of her arms and holding onto his belt. "You were writhing like crazy. You alright?" She bit her lip and lowered her brow.

"Why should you care?" He looked surprise, but not enough to cause any sympathy or confusion.

"The way you were panicking and talking in your sleep had everyone worried. I was the only one with enough nerves to come and actually wake you." She pulled herself away from him and held her legs against her chest. With shaky fingers, she began rubbing her arms as she sighed.

"Just a bad dream. That's all. Now can I go back to sleep?"

"Are you tired?"

"No, but I don't want to talk to _you_." The way she hissed her sentence made him snort in a prideful manner. She was being rude, but he could play that card right back.

"Fine with me. But if you have more nightmares, don't expect me to come in and wake you up."

"Big deal, Wyatt," she said, smirking. He rolled his eyes inconspicuously and turned away from her; he _hated_ hearing his name slip through her lips. He waited for some snippy remark or smart-alecky comeback, but she stayed silent. Confused, he turned to look at her and saw that she was simply sitting there, smiling proudly and looking at him as if she had won. He raised a brow.

"That's it?" She shrugged and looked innocent. "That's all you have to say? You aren't going to insult me or anything?"

"Do you _want_ me to insult you, you masochist?" He blushed and clenched his jaw tightly. The new smile that spread across her lips simply made him blush harder; she still looked prideful, but now there was a sultry behavior behind it that heated him up at once. She was a woman and he was a man – even if there was no chemistry between them, a look _that_ sexy could have a weak-minded man doing her bidding in seconds. Too bad Cain wasn't weak-minded. She chuckled quietly and lay back down on her bed, her open-stomached nightgown revealing a good amount of her skin. "You jerk."

Cain wanted to smile. She had managed to be funny – and, truth be told, it was slightly appealing to him – but he couldn't smile in front of her and show a weakness to something she did. Not now, not _ever_.

"Yeah, well…" He rubbed one of his hands across the back of his neck nervously. He bit both lips together in his attempts to keep from smiling, but it was all in vain; the corners of his lips rose and he was soon smiling at her. She lifted her brows in a look of surprise, but the smile still stuck.

"Ah ha! I made the heartless Tin Man smile!" It disappeared at once at the comment. He moved his hand off his neck and glared at her.

"Don't you _dare_—"

"What are you going to do, huh?" she asked, shrugging and shaking her head slightly. "All you came in here for was to wake me up, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it was," he growled, looking at her with an unhappy look in his eyes.

"Well, you've done that, so why are you still here?" He licked his lips for a long time as he stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Why _was _he still here? He could've left at any moment. He could leave right now. Yet here he was, sitting on the edge of Azkadellia's bed and talking with her.

"Because you haven't kicked me out, Princess," he said, fitting her with a nickname that neither of them approved of. He had given it to DG a while back and so to use it on her rude sister seemed like sacrilege.

"I didn't know that was the plan, Tin Man." He smirked knowingly at her challenging look; he saw how this was going to be played, and he could play it well.

"There is no plan, sweetheart, but you asked me a question." She tapped her chin for a moment and looked as though she were thinking half-heartedly about something.

"You're right, Wyatt. I did." She stood up and stretched, keeping her back to him the entire time (Which was probably for the better, for as she stretched, Cain found himself watching rather intently) before putting her hands on her hips and looking at him with a look that would've gone well with her once evil personality. "You're excused." His expression changed to one of a kicked dog. He looked like he had been scolded, and the look made her smirk very slightly.

"_Excused_? How old do you think I am?"

"You're still just a little boy, Wyatt," she said, walking over and pushing his hat down his eyes. "You're no man." He stood up and found himself towering over her. He was certainly taller, but she still seemed intent on bringing him down. "You're just a Tin Boy."

"You quit that right now," he demanded harshly, gripping her upper arm with such a force that it made her wince and yelp. Cain was pleased with the response – it was good to see that she wasn't entirely unbreakable.

"Ow! Cain!" Ha! His grip was forcing authority! It was good to hear her refer to him in such a manner, whether it had been sincere or not. "Stop!" Her forceful voice sounded like she was attempting to regain her position as the more mature and responsible one in the room, but Cain would not be so easily defeated.

"Give me one good reason why I should."

"Because I'm DG's sister!" He shook her slightly, which made her let out an odd grunt.

"That's not a good reason," he told her. She looked up at him with fire burning in her eyes.

"Let go of me now before I call for help." He glared at her for a moment longer before pushing her away and cracking his knuckles. She rubbed her arm and stared at him.

"You're a stubborn little brat, you know that?"

"And you're a frustrated old man!"

"Oh, so now I'm _old_? Last I checked, you thought I was just a little boy." She crossed her arms and strode up next to him, opening her mouth to say something before he interrupted her. "How old are _you_, anyway?"

"Twenty-three. Which means you must be somewhere near forty annuals or something!" He was technically thirty-six, but the iron suit had slowed his age progression considerably and thus resulted in his age of actually being only about twenty-eight. Yet he didn't feel like sharing his young age with her and instead sighed deeply, letting his exhale hit her face.

"You jump to conclusions to quickly, sweetheart."

"How old _are _you, Cain?" She actually sounded a little curious, but her face still showed anger and distaste. He smirked and calmed himself before speaking.

"Twenty-eight." Her mouth dropped open and her arms fell to her sides. The age obviously shocked her, and the reaction caused Cain to laugh. "Sorry, I'm not the old man you thought I was."

"You're only five annuals older then I am," she said, almost breathless with shock. "That's…" He laughed again at her inability to finish a sentence. He pat her head and began walking out the door.

"I'll just let you sleep on it. Good night, little girl." But before he could manage to get completely out the door, she had seized his shirt and pulled him back around.

"Are you lying to me?"

"No, of course not." He looked startled that she would assume that. "Why would I lie?"

"Why wouldn't you? You obviously hate me."

"That's not true." They stared at each other. A rosy flushed graced his cheeks as he bit his lips and quickly averted his gaze to somewhere on the floor. Her lips parted as she continued to look at him. Cain glanced back at her before looking somewhere else again, obviously unable to hold eye contact. There was nothing to really look at in her mostly empty room, but it was better then crumbling underneath her startled eyes.

"It's not?" she asked in a pleasant voice that made his gaze snap to her at once. She looked _happy _about this, and he thought she looked nice when she was even a little bit happy, as she was now. He shook his head slowly, biting both lips harder. She looked around before he bent down and she found herself only inches away from his face. Before she had anytime to pull back (if that had even crossed her mind in the first place), he kissed her roughly on the mouth and lifted his hands into her hair.

She was completely thrown off. His lips were warm and didn't seem intrusive or crude against her own. He was obviously trying to figure out a way to kiss her and not feel completely awkward for he tried kissing her at an angle, he tried kissing her while he towered almost directly over her, he even tried kissing around her mouth and across her jaw. Overwhelmed with whatever extreme sensation was pulsing through her, she didn't move. She didn't encourage or scold him. She just let him kiss her. When he finally pulled away, she felt her lips tingle and her cheeks warm up. He looked dissatisfied, though she wasn't sure what for.

"Umm… I…" He was trying to explain; she knew that much. But nothing came, and both of them were left standing there with rosy cheeks and open mouths. She licked her lips and blinked as his heavy breathing blew against her face. "I don't… hate you," he whispered, his voice feather light. He was looking away again. The tables turned, however, as Azkadellia moved forward and pressed her lips softly against his and grabbed the sides of his shirt. She was slow and clumsy, but he understood and didn't rush her. She stayed close against him as she pulled away. Her lips still brushed against his now and then as they breathed and she felt her hips and stomach against his. She smiled slightly as he nuzzled against her and closed his eyes.

"I don't hate you, either," she told him. "Old man."


End file.
